


Echoes in the Mind Palace

by Effenay



Series: Time Tests its Waters (Sherlolly) [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, F/M, Inspired by Fanart, Molly absent, Sherlock is Alone, Sherlock's Mind Palace, Umeko-Sherlolly, set between s2 and s3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 16:38:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9616274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Effenay/pseuds/Effenay
Summary: Sherlock's suicide mission to take down Moriarty's network is slowly drawing to a close. Within the time frame he spent travelling around the world, he sees Molly within the halls of his Mind Palace.





	

**Author's Note:**

> After I encountered some lovely fanarts of the fandom, the idea was planted in my brain of the what-might-haves that could have happened during the two year gap when Sherlock was missing. This story is not entirely new and I feel inclined to credit the inspiration to this short fic to the lovely umeko-sherlolly, so I'm sending you a link to the source that instigated my drive for writing this:  
> http://umeko-sherlolly.tumblr.com/post/104733911113  
> (Sorry I don't know how to do hyperlink on this so just do the old fashioned copy and paste)

_“What are the damages?”_

He gasped his breath for every throbbing pain.

“…A few blows to the diaphragm… A kick at the back… A hit on one or two on the tendons of the arms…”

His tall figure wrapped and curled into a ball, writhing in pain as he took note that his limbs were rendering him useless; thanks to the pressure points that were acutely struck by his interrogator.

He counted the hours that had passed, estimating how long it had been since the prison guards had left him like that. Taking this all into account, he was then able to feel his limbs once more.

_“It’s going to take you another 20 minutes till you’re able to draw strength in your legs.”_

“By then, the guards would return from their break,” he said.

_“Chances are, you’ll live the life of a paraplegic if they’re going to strike you at your lower back by the waist for the second time.”_

“Don’t worry,” he huffed as he slowly experimented on curling his fingers into a tight fist. “I have a plan.”

_“I hope you haven’t forgotten why you’re here.”_

He scoffed at the thought as he looked up.

Within his mind palace, there she stood; a concerned look on her face. Wearing that memorable cherry-printed top underneath her lab coat.

It seemed to be happening to him more frequently now; seeing the face of Molly Hooper within the periods when he was alone. It’s all strange to him. John’s voice pops up whenever he was in the process of unravelling cases; whilst Molly would be there whenever there wasn’t anyone else around.

Sherlock took a deep breath, reminded of the deed she had done for him. John, Mrs Hudson, Lestrade. The three people in his life that kick-started this suicide mission in the very first place. Forget the people who were murdered by the hands of Moriarty’s men; people die every day after all. At the very least, he could afford to be a little selfish to be concerned for the three people in his life who had the heart to be patient with his difficult self.

“No,” he corrected himself. “Four.”

He didn’t forget her. No, that wasn’t the case at all. For reasons unknown he made it specifically clear that he had no means of entertaining her affections (of course there are moments where he used it to his advantage for an easy access). But Molly was the least of his concerns, not because she was no one of great importance, but because he knew she was safe and away from the firing range of Moriarty’s assassins.

_“I don’t count.”_

“I assure you that’s hardly the case,” he said to the pathologist within his mind palace.

Perhaps the echoes of her self-depreciation towards him was a way of reprimanding himself for the way he treated her. She did a lot for him; more than enough. All the more reason he needed to overcome his current state and get this mission over and done with.

Sherlock then wearily sat himself up, the throbbing pain in his muscles slowly dissipated with every passing second.

He made a list in his mind, the things he’ll do when he would finally return to London.

  1. Surprise John
  2. Sneak up on Mrs Hudson
  3. Meet up with Lestrade
  4. Repay Molly Hooper



Of course, that was the basic outline; but what made it long was the possible routes he considered in order to make all four points happen.

 _“You’re getting ahead of yourself,”_ reminded the pathologist. _“Look at what’s going on in front of you.”_

He raised his head up, through the small crack for a jail cell window he saw the moonlight seeping through it at an angle.

It was well past midnight, quite possibly a few hours till the breaking dawn. It seemed that his plan had already begun to take effect.

Earlier during the interrogation, he dropped a comment regarding the interrogator’s assistant. Something about the man’s brother-in-law using his status to take over the family business (not that Sherlock would care about, really). He took his chances by dropping a few comments of the better alternatives he could have done if he was in the assistant’s positon, taking the chance of trying to earn the man’s trust.

Of course, his bantering led him to being floored by the main interrogator and was close to being beaten up had it not been for the man’s second in command. Not a very surprising outcome, but as he told himself before; he was willing to take his chances.

No doubt John would call him an idiot. He could almost hear him say the words as a passing comment at the outcome.

Light footsteps tapped onto the hard cemented floor, the sound travelled to his ears from the direction of the end of the hallway. Moments later, the assistant popped his head into the consulting detective’s view; hesitant as he was clearly naïve of what Sherlock was capable of.

“You said that there’s another way of taking back my father’s business,” said the young man.

A glint of mischief sparkled in the consulting detective’s eyes.

 _One more hurdle cleared,_ he thought, _three more to go._

**Author's Note:**

> I know its more plot than fluffy romance but its getting there. Any thoughts? This is not beta-read, I'm more than open to feedback


End file.
